


Battles Won and Yet to Pass

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: AU, Historical, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-17
Updated: 2008-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-06 00:36:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sean's turning and the events that follow it.  Follows An Honest Man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battles Won and Yet to Pass

**Author's Note:**

> The Tangled Histories verse exists in a world where the existence of vampires is known and accepted, and a handful of vampire families make up somewhere between two and ten percent of the world population. In this verse, vampires are not affected by sunlight and there is no great universal conflict between mortals and immortal. Vampires generally only take human blood that is offered willingly, and there are plenty of humans willing to offer. They can only die from not feeding enough and perhaps a few other rare conditions. The most important things to these vampires are age, family, and respect. Various pairings will be explored in the verse, and stories may jump around the chronology, but I'm going to try to write so that they can be read as standalones. In other words, I'm trying to avoid a WIP series, and there's no telling how long it'll take me to tell these stories, but they'll appear sporadically and all be listed under the Tangled Histories heading in my fic index.

 

They fall into an easy harmony in the little cottage as the days grow colder, Sean surprised by how much a part of their intimacy he feels, not at all an outsider. He doesn't entirely understand how one can become _family_ in such a short time, but they move around each other with grace and understanding, exchanging gentle touches and caresses, and he isn't sure how he lived _without_ this for so long. Before the first snow falls, they hunt, and he keeps himself busy curing the meat for the winter, naturally assuming the mundane tasks of food preparation as it isn't as if the vampires need it. The days grow shorter, and they spend more time indoors, he especially, not having a fur or anything to keep warm in the bitter wind. At night, this is irrelevant, as the two of them sleep on either side of him, enveloping his body, and he never lacks for heat.

It is the night of the winter solstice that he asks for it – the change – and they do not hesitate in granting it to him.

"How will it happen?" he asks as he sits between them on the bed, feeling like an eager child the night before a festival.

"Much as before," Ian explains. "We will bite you, and you will drink from each of us. But this time you will change."

"Will it hurt?"

"Yes, but not severely," Alan replies. "Only growing pains. Your body will have to adjust. You will be able to sleep through most of it."

Sean nods. "How do you know these things?"

"We met an older vampire once, in France. We were eager for knowledge of our kind, and he taught us the things we need to know," Alan explains.

"Will you teach me?"

"Of course, my dear," Ian says fondly.

"I trust you to protect me," Sean says, trying to control the trembling in his limbs.

"We would never let harm come to you, child. You have our word," Alan promises.

"Our vow," Ian adds, and Sean nods.

"I want this, then. I want the change."

Ian nods. "Lie back, and make yourself comfortable."

Sean pushes off his shoes, each with the toe of the other foot, and pulls the thick blanket up around his body as he lowers himself onto the pillows. The vampires sit to either side of him, Ian gently caressing his wrist with a thumb and giving him a gentle smile. He bends to kiss Sean, who arches up eagerly, meeting his lips and sighing as Ian's kiss takes him away, as it always does. When Ian lays him back down he is warm and pliant, and accepts Alan's kiss as a pleasant afterthought, floating on the current of his desire. He feels the two pricks in his neck and moans, the blood surging from his body into their mouths, his heart swelling with love for them both. Then his tongue finds the tangy, metallic flavour of Ian's vein, and sucks the drops greedily, until it is taken away from him and Alan's wrist is presented. He feels a strange hunger rise in him, not in his stomach but somewhere between his loins and his heart, and growls slightly when Alan takes his wrist away. Then he is lowered back down to the pillows again, and his body feels uncomfortable, not his own. It surges with something unnameable, the transformation, and he is gripped by momentary panic before he feels strong hands holding him down, caressing and lulling him into a fitful sleep, sparing him the experience of witnessing the end of his own mortality.

* * *

 

Sean wakes and it is midday, though he does not know which day. He feels incredibly sore. His gums ache and his limbs feel strange, his skin fragile. A warm kiss to his temple reassures him – he is not alone – and he slowly opens his eyes.

"Good morning, beautiful," Alan murmurs, smiling over him. Sean groans and stretches, everything feeling strange.

"How long have I slept?" he croaks out, unused to his own voice.

"Two days," Ian replies. "It is not unusual. How do you feel?"

Sean frowns, trying to survey his own needs in this unfamiliar state. It is impossible to ignore, however, when he latches onto it, the pulsing desire that he felt at the moment of transformation grown suddenly much stronger. "_Hungry_," he growls, and Alan smiles again, stroking his forehead.

"Then it is a good thing that I have brought you supper," Ian replies fondly. Sean turns his head to the side and sees that Ian is loosely embracing a fair young boy, who smiles shyly. Sean immediately feels a stab of jealousy at the familiarity with someone who is not himself or Alan, coupled with a surge of need. He springs forward, unused to the strength of his muscles, but Alan is perceptive and pins him down again, murmuring "careful, careful," in his ear.

"This is Peter," Ian explains as Sean stares at the boy, who is no longer smiling and has started to tremble. "He is a very sweet boy and tended to our needs for several months, before you came to us. You are not to harm him."

Sean tries to focus on the words, but he is consumed by desire for the blood beneath the pale young skin. "You must stop when we tell you," Alan murmurs, still holding him fast. "Or I will pull you away, and the wound will bruise."

"You may have to," Sean growls low in his throat, and Alan laughs as Ian murmurs sweet words in Peter's ear. Sean realises with some surprise that he can understand every one of them, though Ian is across the room and whispering. But then Ian brings the boy forward, and Sean can think of nothing but his need.

"This is where you bite," Ian instructs, gently pulling the boy's head to the side and resting two fingers over the jugular. It is completely unnecessary, as Sean knows by instinct, but he also recognises Ian's tone and his new father's desire to calm him. "You will learn when to pull away in time, by listening carefully to the human's heartbeat, but you are too hungry right now, so we will tell you when to stop. Slowly, now."

Sean ignores him, as the boy's neck is presented to him beautifully, enticingly, and though Alan will not allow him the use of his hands he sinks his new fangs in greedily, feeling them pierce the fragile skin. The boy whimpers and he sucks hard, hearing Alan murmur "slow" in his ear but not able to obey. After a moment, he hears the firm "stop," but again he is a slave to his body's wishes and Alan wrenches him back, the boy crying out and falling into Ian's arms as the older vampire tenderly licks the wound shut. Sean lays in Alan's arms opposite them, gasping, staring at Peter, and slowly the fog breaks, his body recognizing that it is sated, at least for now, and embarrassment begins to set in. "I am sorry."

Peter stares at him, but then nods, still looking unconvinced. Sean reaches out cautiously to touch his face, and the boy winces at first but then leans into the touch when Sean doesn't move forward. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't," Peter says softly, his English heavily accented, and Ian smiles.

"Your first lesson, lovely. You have to take care of them. You won't feel full at first, but you are. Have you ever consumed a meal that seemed an appropriate size, only to have a stomach ache after?"

Sean smiles sheepishly. "At the harvest festival. Every year."

"Then you understand," Alan murmurs. "Try to be careful next time."

Sean nods. "Thank you, Peter."

"You're… you're welcome, sir."

Sean laughs. "I am not a nobleman of any sort, boy."

"No, sir, but you are… one of them," he whispers with fascination. Sean thinks he understands, though he has never met anyone like this. He admires the boy, brave enough to feel something toward them that is entirely other than fear.

"Yes," he says with a smile, and Alan kisses his cheek.

"I will take you home, now," Ian says, leading the boy to the door of the cottage. Sean sighs and leans more heavily back against Alan, who kisses his neck.

"Are you in pain?"

"Less, now," Sean answers. "Is it the blood?"

"Yes. You will heal much more quickly now."

"And I am stronger?"

"Vastly."

"When the spring comes, I will kill him," he says softly. "You know that."

Alan doesn't have to answer, or ask whom. It is written clearly on Sean's face.

* * *

 

Though they no longer have to worry about food or the cold within their numbers, the vampires spend the winter in the cottage, and do not travel. Sean spends the time testing his new abilities and the way his body responds. He learns to feed without help, and stops panicking every time he notices that he is not breathing. He becomes accustomed to the deep awareness of his two fathers – he knows where they are, and feels the strength of their two hearts beating in his own chest, and can even perceive their emotions without using his human senses. When the snow begins to melt, however, the reverie breaks, and they head south again.

"Would you wait for me on the road?" he asks them as they near the village. "I no longer need your protection, but… I sense I will need your comfort."

"Of course," Ian says softly.

"I hate doing it this way," Sean admits. "Coming to a man in the night. But if I were to arouse suspicion… they already dealt with us, they must know that something is strange about you."

"Yes," Alan agrees. "It is best."

"I love you," Sean says firmly, kissing both their mouths as they stand in the middle of the road. "I won't be long."

Ian smiles. "Do what you need, child. We will be here."

Sean nods in thanks and continues down the road alone, staying in the shadows just in case. When he reaches the cottage, he slips inside unnoticed, and finds the treacherous thug still awake, crouched in front of the fire.

"Why did you kill them?" he asks in a low tone as he shuts the door behind himself. John jumps, and then his eyes dart around. He reaches for the red-hot poker and holds it in front of his body. Sean only smiles.

"Why did you kill them?"

"The same reason I'm going to kill you, I suspect."

"You could try," Sean agrees with a shrug. "I'm sure you heard rumours? About my companions?"

John frowns. "They say that they were wicked men. Have they taught you sorcery? You don't frighten me, any more than your whore of a sister did. Impetuous wench. It's a good thing I taught her her pla…"

Sean doesn't wish to hear any more. He lifts the poker by the tip that is pointed at him and throws it through the door like an arrow. John blanches and his eyes go wide. The bedroom door opens and a woman stands in the doorway, looking frightened. Sean can tell from her appearance – the makeup too much for a decent woman – that she certainly isn't his wife, and he nods to the bedroom. "Go back inside," he says kindly, and she bites her lip and nods, turning around and closing herself in. "Now. You and I have some business," he says, grabbing John by the shoulder and squeezing hard, only just shy of breaking the bone.

"Ah! Stop! What are you, demon?"

"Not a demon. A good man who has lost his patience. You killed my sister's husband and you killed her child."

"Dinnae want either of them in my way when I fucked her," John replies brazenly, and Sean shakes his head.

"Thank you for those words of wisdom, you ignorant worm. Any last words?"

"Aye. Go back to Hell from whence you came, sodomite."

"Oh, I'm so glad you said that," Sean replied with a smile. "It makes me feel so much better about this." Raising one hand to the bastard's head, and the other firm on his neck, Sean twists his hands in opposite directions with a sickening snap. Crinkling his nose in distaste – he's covered in blood he wouldn't taste if he were dying and it were the only sustenance left – he swings the head by the hair into the fire, letting the body fall. Frowning at the doorway, he wishes he had brought some money for the prostitute to compensate for the shock of what she'll see, but there's nothing for it. He leaves the house quietly, running up the road, and finds Ian and Alan where he left them.

"The river, please," he says solemnly. "I need to wash."

They nod, understanding, and he cleans all the filthy blood from his body, and as much of it as he can from his clothes, making a note to find a town where he can buy clean ones tomorrow. When he finishes, he climbs up onto the bank where they sit, and wedges himself between them.

"How do you feel?" Ian asks, gently.

"It's funny," Sean says. "You would think that we'd drink from our victims, but his blood is tainted to me. Even if he were a rogue or a highwayman, I would feel like a thief to do it. It is so much easier to leave the man you've killed where he lies, isn't it?"

Alan smiles and rubs his neck. "You are a good vampire."

"Do you drink from them, when you have to kill?"

"Sometimes I kill them that way. I haven't killed so many men. But I agree with you. Killing for vengeance, killing an evil man… it would only taste sour."

Ian smiles. "The two of you are so alike, in some ways."

Alan cocks an eyebrow. "Why whatever do you mean?"

"Only… violent. In a protective sense. Fiercely protective. I love that about you both."

"Oh, but you are that way too, my love," Alan objects.

"Hmm, yes. Only in a different way."

"It is a shame that I have turned," Sean says, smiling. "Normally, at a time like this I would suggest a drink."

Alan laughs and rubs his back. "You cannot become drunk now, but we still enjoy drink. Shall we find a public house?"

"Aye, all right. We'll need somewhere to stay the night, at least."

"Perhaps tomorrow you would like to see your sister."

Sean nods. "Yes. And I could do with some travel, if we might. I need a change in scenery."

"Of course," Ian agrees, standing and stretching his limbs.

"We should venture south," Alan suggests as he and Sean rise a little more slowly. "The sun shines more brightly there, and their blood is sweeter," he adds with a little smile.

"Funny, I found it more spicy," Ian says, rolling his eyes.

"Technicalities."

"Come on, then," Sean says, laughing. "I know an inn east of here."

"Good man," Ian says, kissing his cheek. Sean grins and feels his mood lift.

* * *

 

"I do not feel peace in my heart, knowing that you have killed for me," Genevieve says frankly as they stroll behind the house where she works, her small hand clasped around Sean's arm.

"It was not only for you," Sean reasons. "Also for the safety of the women of the village, and to avenge your husband and daughter."

"And yet that does not help."

Sean sighs. "I know. I wish you hadn't guessed."

"It was clear in your eyes. I know you well, Sean. Perhaps not as well as they will come to, but as well as any mortal woman can."

"Are you content, Geni? If I could give you a better life, I would, but I don't know what you would have…"

"Peace, Sean. I want for nothing. You have found me a good family, and a good home where I can live out my days in happiness and comfort."

"I only wish I could so easily find you love."

Genevieve smiles. "As always, you are kind, but I am spoiled for love. I had a pleasant youth, Sean. Don't trouble yourself with me."

"But you are my sister."

She laughs and stops in the path, pulling a very small book from her dress and handing it to him.

"I have written some poetry. It isn't much, but I know if you have it, my words will linger at least. You'll find my handwriting has improved," she says with a little smile. "The master has a lovely little library."

Sean beams as he flips through the little book – in truth, his own ability in reading is far from perfect, and his main experience with it is the letters his father taught him to write, a skill he shared with Genevieve before he left home. He slips the book into his coat and turns towards the house. "I will treasure these," he promises, taking her hand and squeezing it. "Thank you, Geni."

She smiles and stands on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "You are very welcome. Tell them, from me, to take good care of you."

Sean laughs and shakes his head. "I am a grown man, am I not?"

"Aye. But grown men still need care. Perhaps most of all."

Sean is struck, as always, by the wisdom of his sister, but simply takes her into his arms once more and bids her farewell, turning towards the road and his waiting companions. Perhaps Alan will teach him to read. He is a patient man, and they certainly have time.


End file.
